


Kindly Go To Hell, Majesty.

by YasssGaga33 (orphan_account)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Capture, Criminal! Grif, Grimmons is OTP rn, M/M, Simmons is a King, Swearing, Wow, king AU, so this is a thing, sort of one sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/YasssGaga33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif hadn't expected to be taken prisoner by the King. Let alone have him fall in love with the man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Highness meets Peasantry

  Grif let out an  _oof_ as he fell to his knees on the marble floor. He narrowed his eyes at the guard who was clothed in chain mail. "Yeah, fuck you too, bud." He spat. A metal boot connected with his stomach.

  Grif coughed and glanced up at the throne, jangling his shackles. "And I assume you're the bitch who ordered my arrest?" He addressed the royally clad man in the velvet and gold seating. 

  The King adjusted his glasses and furrowed his eyebrows. "Is that anyway to talk to your King?" He asked. 

  Grif let out a laugh. "I couldn't give two flying fuc-" He was cut off by the King standing from the chair.

  "Leave us." He ordered the guards who stood beside Grif.

  "Majesty-" One started, but cowered away from the glance aimed at him. They both turned on their heels and marched out.

 

* * *

 

  When they first threw the man in front of the King, he wanted to immediately take his head off, or better yet mutilate him beyond recognition. Until the man looked up at him.

  His tan skin complimenting the dark brown hair that sat a mess atop his head. Stubble poked out of his face in sharp hairs. His dark blue eyes pulled the face together in a sharp contrast. 

  Simmons felt a shudder run through him when he spoke. At a loss for words, wanting to execute the guard who delivered a swift kick to the prisoner's side. 

  "Leave us." He said to the guards who hesitated leaving the smug prisoner to the recently appointed king. Simmons lost his sense as he approached the prisoner.

  Sinking to a knee in front of him, Simmons locked eyes, a pink dusting his freckled cheeks. "Hey." The man said awkwardly. Simmons looked away.

  "Would you, c-could you tell me your name?" He asked as the man raised his eyebrow. 

  "Grif. Aren't good kings supposed to know that shit?" Grif asked tilting his head lazily. Simmons pouted. 

  "I'm a fine king. I hope. Anyways, I know the Grif family. The dimwit, the freak, and you must be lazy-ass son of your despicable father." Simmons smirked and rose from the kneel.

  Grif spit at his feet. "Fuck you." He hissed. Simmons gripped Grif's chin between his index and thumb. 

  "I can have you and your entire family executed in the matter of five minutes. All I want from you is respect." He seethed. Grif rolled his eyes.

  "You want me to kiss your ass. Beg for my life. I'm not dumb." He whined. Simmons frowned. 

  "H-How do you know?" He grumbled, knowing he was right. "Let's make a deal." The King offered. 

  "What would that be?" Grif raised both eyebrows. Simmons stood up taller.

  "I spare your family's life, and you become mine." He grinned. Grif's face became worried, fear etched onto his features.

  "Y-Your's?" Grif inquired.

  "You'd stay here at the castle. You'd love me, or fear me, do as I said." Simmons explained, looking menacing as well as pleased.

  "Fuck, how?" Grif's voice cracked. He looked down, trembling.

  "You could start by calling me your majesty." Simmons smirked and brought Grif's chin so their eyes met.

 "Yes, Y-Your Majesty." Grif mumbled through gritted teeth.  


	2. Disgraceful

  "This is my room, our room!" Simmons smiled and gestured out to the magnificent room he lived in. Grif crossed his arms and shrugged. "What?" Simmons inqired. 

  "Oh, nothing." He said looking away from the King. Simmons furrowed his brows. He grabbed Grif's hand and led him in.

  "Tell me. I want you to tell me anything that's wrong." Simmons pried, leading them to sit on the large, plush bed, blankets made from the same velvety material as the throne. 

  "And I don't fucking want to be here." Grif spat. Simmons frowned, leaning closer to the other man. It was silent until the large wooden doors were swung open by a man who's hair was greying prematurely. 

  "Simmons! I- Who's this?" He boomed. Simmons quickly stood up and placed his hands behind his back, straightening his posture.

  "T-This is Grif, Sir, Dexter Grif." He looked nervous. Grif's eyes shifted between the two of them, seeing a bead of sweat trailing from Simmons' orange hair.

  "Uh..." Grif mustered when the man bypassed Simmons and strolled over to Grif. He leaned close and glared into his eyes.

  "Sarge..." Simmons shuddered nervously. 

  "If he's a servant why's he sitting on your bed?" Sarge asked, turning to Simmons once again.

  "He's not a servant," Simmons mumbled.

  Sarge made a face, " _This_ is what you've done with the position I gave you?" Simmons looked away.

  "Sir, with all due respect-" he started, but was cutoff when Sarge stood up and began walking out.

  "Don't bother, such a shame." He grumbled. The door slammed shut. Simmons and Grif were left in complete silence. 

  "Uh, you ok?" Grif asked Simmons when he shrugged off his jacket and threw off his crown. Simmons stayed quiet but flopped onto his bed. "Do you want to... Cuddle?" Grif guessed.

  Simmons giggles and held open his arms. "Ok." Grif reluctantly wiggled between his arms. "Thanks, Grif."

   "Shut up and go to bed." Grif smiled. He could live like this.

  

**Author's Note:**

> Grimmons is honestly OTP right now. King AU's are my weakness. Wow Simmons sounds kind of evil.


End file.
